[@Feisty-Pants][@Kyun][@Suku][@Masaki Haruna]
The atmosphere of the cafe itself was almost exactly what Sasaki had expected from a name like 'Mocha Dreams'. It was hardly the kind of bustling, crowded cafe that something like most Starbucks establishments could be described as. Instead, he figured that it could be likened to a library. A library filled with the scent of appetizing baked goods and freshly brewed drinks. No wonder people spent so much time around here. Well, it probably was that [i]and[/i] the scandalous outfits that these servers wore. The giant safely averted his gaze from the cafe's nexus of activity to his companion and the window overlooking the Academy City streets. Though he had to wonder why exactly the young man before him knew of a cafe in which the servers wore such revealing clothing... Catching sight of the violinist and her fluffy, yellow avian companion once more, Sasaki chose to wave her over to their table and interact with the artist and himself rather standing all lonesome at the counter.

Although, it didn't take long for someone to come to Kei and Sasaki's table, which saved the pair from the anxious waiting that typically accompanied two person outings such as this one. And saved Kei the potential embarassment of answering the question that Sasaki was formulating in his mind. Unfortunately, such a development was not as simple as initially suspected. Namely because their server was none other than...

"...Kotori-chan?" Sasaki's eyes widened in shock for a brief moment as he turned caught sight of the waitress who spoke with the soft timidity characteristic of his friend. The last place he'd expected the demure songbird to work was somewhere like this, but under the dangerously short skirt and scarlet face was none other than Namashiya Kotori. Taken out of his stunned silence by Kei's own remark regarding Kotori being Kotori and not some kind of Kotori look-speak-and-actalike, Sasaki opened his mouth to order before recoiling backward, hand over his eyes as Ria began her attack. "Um, anyway I'd like to- HUH?!"

"...Ahem," the giant coughed awkwardly, face turned to Kei and eyes directed at a random streetlamp. For all he knew, the groping was still going on, and subjecting the songbird to more humiliation would make him a terrible friend. "Tsurara-chan, if you could please stop... erm... fond- um... If you could stop... Please don't do that to Kotori-chan," Sasaki requested uncomfortably. He wouldn't be the first to say that his own boss was overly casual, but the manager of Mocha Dreams had to be on a whole 'nother level to let this kind of thing pass on what he assumed to be a regular basis. The blatant display of Level 5 power to affect the business' routine was one thing - if Sasaki was a business owner who had a Level 5 working for him, he too would leverage that kind of power and publicity - but this public display of eroticism definitely wasn't what he'd call 'justifiable from a business sense' by any means. Maybe Ria just got that kind of pass since she was a Level 5. That was probably it.

Though fortunately for both the songbird and Sasaki's sensibilities, Ria stopped and stole a seat at the duo's table, explaining with a surprising degree of seriousness an issue that struck deep into the heart of his friend. She was requesting their help to rescue Kei's cousin from peril, a cause that, naturally, troubled the young magician greatly. Sasaki placed a reassuring hand on Kei's petite shoulder. "Calm down, Kei-kun," he advised gently, "Let Tsurara-chan explain. Getting all riled up won't be good for you or your cousin." The situation struck a nostalgic chord in the heart of the ex-Skill-Out. "Don't worry," he said softly, "Even if nobody else can or will, I'll help you save her. We're friends after all, ne?"

Sasaki turned to Ria, the cryomaster requisitioning his underground expertise. How she knew that he was affiliated with Skill-Out was a question for another day. Granted, he was a Child Error with no powers and a body built for fighting, the chances of him [i]not[/i] knowing about Skill-Out was dwarfed immensely by the chance of him possessing any bit of knowledge. At least she didn't know that he [i]was[/i] Skill-Out, just that he knew of them. "Well, I [i]used[/i] to know a few delinquents," he answered, emphasizing the past participle, "But on the topic of Clowns... All I've heard is that they're pretty big on the whole 'anarchy' idea, and then something about there being Skinheads - y'know, like neo Nazis - or something like that." He shrugged. "Sorry, that's all. I don't really associate with Skill-Out-types."